Former Glory
by Ryu Redwings
Summary: Loki is taken back to Asgard to receive punishment for his crimes against Asgardians and mortals alike. But the verdict he receives is not what anyone had been expecting. What will become of the former god in the realm he hates the most?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Well, hello, hello! It's nice of you to drop by, and check out this crazy brain-child of mine. I'm one of those horrible writers that picks up ideas and drops them just as quickly, so if this story drops dead, sorry in advance! Anyway, I hope you like it, and it's not too terrible. At least it's readable. XD

If you've wandered over because of my Naruto fanfiction that I wrote nearly six years ago (has it really been that long? Jeez!), I'm sorry to have disappointed you! I'm probably never going to continue Ryu's story, but hopefully you might enjoy this too? But really, thank you all for reading my stuff.

By the way, this story is rated M for language, among other things.

Happy Reading~!

- Ryu

Chapter One

**I**t was as if he had never left. The halls still looked the same, glowing with the luminescence found only in rainbows and the soft light of far away stars, and the floors shining like glossed ice. Everything in Gladsheim had always shone as if burning with an inner fire, a warmth that never left. And one he never truly had. Loki sneered at it all under the muzzle, his green eyes narrowed in hatred as he stood before the council. Odin sat in the middle, his eyes sad and stern with his wife next to him. Thor stood on his right hand, the image so horrendously picturesque it made him wish he could spit venom at the whole thing. The only thing he could do was hope that his glare could burn holes through their heads, and spare him this mockery of justice. He knew what they were going to do with him; they didn't have to put on this show of mercy. They hated him, and he hated them back with as much vengeance. Thor could put on that pitiful face as much as he wanted; he was no brother of his anymore.

The chains still held him fast, keeping his god strength bound like so many cords, and if he even attempted to speak, the muzzle invaded his lungs with a burning sensation. He huffed in indignation and fury as other council members deliberated on his punishment. His eyes never left Odin, knowing that the true judgment would fall from him. _COME ON_, he wanted to scream at the dim-eyed fool. _Stop the damn farce, and destroy me already!_

The all-father turned to Thor, and finally spoke. "What do you think, my son?" his voice rumbled like storm clouds ready to burst.

He wanted to tear those ocean eyes out of his head, the pity in them only making his blood boil even more. How dare he make that face after he and his pathetic allies had been the ones who had put him here? His chest rose and fell in fury as Thor answered his father.

"Mercy," he said, and Loki rolled his eyes. As if that were possible for these people. "Loki isn't well, that much is certain. Do we punish the child that catches a cold for being sick? No, first, we must see if we can heal him, and then if he refuses to repent of his crimes in the mortal realm, then real punishment should be given"

Loki had taken to glaring at the mirror-like surface of the floor. His own chained and muzzled image stared back, the green eyes swimming with poisonous hate. The deliberations of what Thor had just said fell on deaf ears as he buried himself further in his mind. His idiot 'brother,' always so foolish and naïve. He thought him sick? No, he was anything but; he was free! His mind had been freed from the lies his Asgardian family had fed him his whole life. His true lineage called for their blood and for their children to lick his boots. Nothing less would just be ridicule.

The surrounding silence got his attention somehow, and he looked up, Odin once more looking at him in judgement. The council members were looking towards him, and he knew that his verdict was nigh. He grinned maliciously. Time to kill another frost giant. Was there any sport in killing a dwarf one though?

"Loki Laefyson," he began, and he almost giggled at the sadness in his voice. Old memories making the senile king soft?

"This court and I have come to a decision. While most wish your death and eternal banishment from this realm, your mother and brother have plead for your life. I have come to this verdict because of their apparent love for you in the face of your transgressions."

For some reason, he found himself waiting, the hate smoldering lowly in his eyes. The entire realm seemed like it was holding its breath, and perhaps it was.

"Since you loathe the mortals and their realm so much, I can not think of any punishment more fitting then for you to live with them. You are stripped of your powers, and I give you a curse in their place. You will not be able to harm a single, living creature, be it beast or man."

The staff in his hand came down with the sound of fate, and the clap that struck the hall wasn't nearly as loud as the roaring in Loki's ears. He felt gutted, his insides rending themselves to shreds as he screamed in rage. The muzzle and chains melted off, his hatred for anything and everything in the hall reverberating across the walls. The image of Thor beginning to argue with Odin began to dissolve as he howled into oblivion.

"NO! HOW DARE YOOOOOO-"

The world was suddenly reeling along with a ringing in his ears, blinding light stinging his eyes as the smell of rotting wood and fetid water slapped him across the face. He was knee-deep in swamp water, his scream sending birds into flight across the bog. With a hysterical snarl, he swept his gaze across the piece of pathetic land Odin had seen fit to fling him to. His entire body was on fire from rage, and he screamed as he slammed his fists into the sopping ground.

"NO! NO, NO, NO!" he cried. "DAMN YOU TO HEL YOU DECREPID FOOL! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL!"

The mortal realm, this disgusting, back-water plane of existence Thor loved so much with its pathetic humans? And he was in it, stripped of his powers, stripped of everything! Animal-like in his hate, he turned on the first thing he saw, and started to tear it to pieces. He pounded at the tree, ripping the bark away, and taking fistfuls of wood out, sap and splinters flying all over the place as he panted. He didn't notice the blood beginning to ooze from his fingers, the streaks of red soaking into the heart of the sickly cypress.

It was hours until he exhausted himself, the god blood still pounding in his veins, and the mosquitoes beginning to molest his skin. He hadn't stopped screaming since he had arrived, his throat gone hoarse and raw as his hands. At some point he stopped, he wasn't sure when, dizzy with diminishing anger and grief at his own foolhardiness.

Days passed, the swampland he had been cast to proved to be heavy with humidity and dangerous creatures that all seemed to want to eat him alive at every point in time. He cursed anything that came near, his muscles seizing up whenever he moved to strike the population of gnats that seemed to personally plague him. At night he felt pythons slither past him, sleek and leathery, but not looking for a meal. The alligators were proving more adept however.

The world blurred and bled together, his head swimming and his body feeling heavier with every step he took. Was this what Odin had wanted instead? To see him suffer before finally dying, and watch his rotting corpse be devoured by these ugly reptiles? His thoughts began to circle about him like vultures, and soon he wasn't quite sure what he was thinking. His feet stumbled before him, moving through the muck of their own accord.

Light, sunlight. The burning sensation of it on his face, unobstructed by trees and mist, broke through the delirium that had set in. Stone was suddenly meeting him, and he collapsed back into the darkness. Something screeched near his ear, and he mumbled, feeling something like hands grabbing him before he was dragged back into thedark again.

* * *

**O**edipa turned the corner on the one of the endless feeling roads between the wetlands on Louisiana, pre-occupied with figures about the land and what she would be having for dinner. She averted her eyes from the stretch of cracking concrete, reaching to turn the AC up even higher. She wasn't bred for this kind of weather.

She screamed when she looked back up, slamming both feet down on the brake pedal as Sasquatch stumbled out from the murky waters and fell inches away from her mud-spattered tires. She scrambled out of her truck, shaking and her heart thundering in her ears.

"Oh no, oh no, no, no-!" She quickly bent down next to the... Man whose head was nearly under her fender. She sighed in relief when she realized she hadn't hit him, but he was still completely out of it.

He looked and smelled as of he had been wandering out in the wetlands for days, his clothes half gone and what skin that wasn't soaked in mud covered in sores. She picked him up, grunting under the weight, and heaved him into the passenger seat. He mumbled something, and she bent down close to his ear.

"What?"

She strained, and heard the half-dead whisper, "A_**ndlát**_... _Bani_..."

Oedipa sucked her teeth, and vaulted back into the drivers seat.

"Fucking Cubans, I don't speak Spanish!" she grumbled as she gunned the truck back onto the road. She was going to have to get this sucker to a doctor. And if he managed to live, he was paying for cleaning her seat!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Oh, gosh, I didn't think I'd get responses so quickly! I'm glad people seem to like what I'm doing here. XD Anyway, here's the next chapter! We're going to be seeing a lot more of Oedipa, I promise. I'm a little stuck on what might happen next so next update might not happen as quickly though. I need to make commission samples too, so I'm not completely broke over the summer. (I draw stuff for moniez.)

Anyway! Happy Reading!

- Ryu

**Chapter Two**

**T**he world Loki woke up to was blurry and full of sunshine. It seemed tamer though, and the stink of the wetlands no longer suffocated him. He jerked fully awake as what seemed like a low table of some sort came into focus, a glass of clear, clean water in his direct line of sight. He snatched the water up without thinking, drinking it in great gulps. He had never been so happy to see clean water in his entire life. Then the pain hit him like a ton of bricks, and he laid back down with a groan. He stared at his shaking hands, looking at lightly bandaged sores, and then checked where he knew he had others. The last thing he remembered was stumbling around in that forsaken swamp, covered in leeches and avoiding alligators. He looked around at where he was now.

It was a house with light yellow walls; that was the first thing he noticed. The next thing he noticed were the shelves built into said walls filled with various oddities and books. He was in a Midgardian home, but how had he gotten here? Immediately suspicious, he slowly sat up on the over-stuffed couch he had been placed on. What if that stupid SHIELD organization had already found him, and this was his new prison? Was he meant to be imprisoned in yet another cage by those idiots? Seemed quite the fragile cage though, but at least it had some books... And wasn't floating 30,000 miles in the air.

"Hey, the Bogman's awake!"

He jerked around to see a young Midgardian woman in shorts, a paint spattered shirt, and heavy boots, her brown hair piled up on top of her head, and a pair of burnt looking gloves in her hands. A swipe of what looked like sulfur was on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, what?" he said. Had he heard her correctly in calling him 'Bogman?'

The woman seemed amused at the slight anger in his voice as she gave him a wry smile. He frowned at her; his being insulted was not a laughing matter. If he didn't feel like he had gotten tossed around by the Hulk about three times all over again, he would have had some very pointed words to say to her.

"Well, you came out of the wetlands, and you didn't have anything on you," she said as she came closer to him. "You sure had some weird clothes though."

Had? Loki quickly looked down again, somehow not registering that he wasn't in his Asgardian garb earlier as he had been pre-occupied seeing if he was still being fed upon by ever kind of pestilence Midgard had to offer. He was in a pair of worn black pants, and a faded blue shirt. He looked up at her, the anger starting to become clearer. How dare she touch him, nevermind undress him? Some mortal woman, who did she think she was?

"Where are my clothes?" he demanded, sitting up as best as he could.

"Out back on the line. Don't worry, Bogman, I didn't see your nickers. The doc took care of you," she said as she came closer, sitting in a chair across from him.

"My name is Loki, not Bogman!" he finally snapped, his green eyes smoldering.

The woman laughed, much to his chagrin. He gritted his teeth, wanting to call her as many insults as he could think up. But the other half of his brain was whirring, keeping him in check. She had laughed at his anger, not cowered in fear at the mention of his name. She hadn't acted surprised, nor seemed to be aware of his appearance. Had the events in New York not spread to all the world...?

"Where am I?" he asked her, as he watched her re-fill his glass. He took it, quickly finishing it, as she poured one for herself. Well, at least she had done one thing right, and that was be an attentive server.

"Romeville, Louisiana," she said. "The most humid, mosquito filled place on earth with too much booze and not enough people with sense in their heads."

So, nowhere near New York, maybe... Loki had to admit, he had done next to no research of the world he had set out to conquer, much less the United States he had started his attack with. He was judging it all off her body language, of course. She seemed to assume him as no threat, just some man who had managed to get lost in the swamp, and gave no signal that she might recognize him. Part of him was disappointed; had he been forgotten here so quickly? Or perhaps SHEILD had effectively hidden his presence... It figured his saintly brother would be the only Asgardian they would let run around in the media.

"How did you wind up in the wetlands?"

Her voice pulled him out of his head, and looked at her. He gave her a steely smile.

"Ah, you wouldn't believe me..." he said, already thinking of how to deflect the conversation away from him. The less she knew, the better. "And you are...?"

She didn't seem to hear him, and he started to boil in mild annoyance as he saw her concentrating on what was going on behind him. Her dark eyebrows had knit together, until her face darkened into an angry scowl. He looked behind himself, seeing a pair of windows opening to an expanse of yard surrounded by forest. It seemed this Romeville was quite secluded, or at least the house he was in was. Was she looking at that vehicle which had just pulled up?

She set down her glass of water, her mouth twisted in contempt and annoyance. He knew that face well; who did she have to hate?

"Hold that thought," she said as she got up.

He craned his neck around, watching her go through the screen door that lead outside. He saw that a man had gotten out of the truck, and seemed to be dumping some buckets of who knew what out into the forest. The woman was shouting at him, waving her arms around. The man turned, said what sounded like some very rude remarks, and kept up his work. From how he was standing, he seemed to be drunk. She shouted at him a few more times, Loki making out the words 'mine,' 'land,' and 'asshole.' When the man chose to ignore her, the demi-god finally making out that the man was dumping fish guts into the trees, she turned around and came back inside.

Loki quietly watched her, feeling as if he should wait and see what would happen next, as she stomped back into the room. Gritting her teeth in a livid smile, she knelt down next to the couch, and reached underneath.

"'Scuse me!"

She came back up with a rather large gun, the demi-god now more intrigued then ever. She went back outside, and he lifted himself up to get a better view outside. He could clearly hear her shouts now.

"I! SAID! LEAVE!"

With one swift move, she let out a shot into the air, the man jumping in fright at the edge of the woods. He scrambled back to his truck, and jumped back in, as she fired another shot, this one aimed at the truck but not truly. The bullet from the shotgun shattered the bark on a sapling near one of the side mirrors. The truck sped off, spitting up grass and dirt all over the place.

"AND DON'T COME BACK!" the woman roared after him.

She started to trudge back to the house, and Loki lied back down. What an... Interesting little mortal. Quick to anger and violence, and what seemed vehemently possessive of the land her home was on, yet seemed at ease with a complete stranger she had picked up covered in leeches. Then again, if someone was drunkenly pouring fish guts onto his property, he would most likely lose his temper as well. She banged back into the house with an exasperated huff, and dumped the shotgun unceremoniously onto the table. She flopped back into the chair, and grabbed her ice water back up.

"I'm Oedipa. Oedipa Stocks."

She glanced at her watch, and got right back up. "Oh, crap, I'll be right back!"

She quickly left the room, moving into another part of the house. He heard yet another door bang open and closed, and he assumed she had left. Loki looked up at the white ceiling, thinking about his predicament. So, he had been banished, stripped of his powers, and left to rot in some horrible swamp forever. It seemed in this place, he wasn't known, and even then, his current host was preoccupied with other mortals abusing her property and something outside of the house. He had been taken care of, given clean clothes, and seemed in good health if not covered in sores and feeling like Sleipnir had accidentally trampled him. An ache started somewhere in him as he realized he would never see Sleipnir, or any of his other children, ever again. He still felt like ripping everything in sight in half, but with his current fragile form, that probably wasn't a good idea. This Oedipa, with her shotgun and short temper, might make quick work of him. So, the most he could do was sit, and steam, his bitter resentment boiling at a steady rate under his skin.

He was going to find a way out of this if it killed him. He didn't care about Odin's curse, he would find a way around it. He _always_ found a way around things, it was what he was good at... He gritted his teeth, and forced himself to sit up. Damn that old fool to Hel and back, he'd get him for this if it was the last thing he ever did!

He heard Oedipa bang back into the house, and realized he was growling. He tried to swallow his rage for now, attempting to act the part of a stranger in pain. She had a pair of goggles hanging around her neck now, her face flushed from heat. She had returned with a brown, glass bottle, the words 'Dr. Pepper' printed on it, and the glass sweating in the heat.

"Does that happen often?" he asked her, his mind still whirring like a machine. He had to keep her busy so she wouldn't question how he had gotten here. He had to get the lay of the land first.

Oedipa raised an eyebrow at him as her mouth was busy with the bottle.

"What does? Chasing off idiots, or making sure my studio doesn't burn down?" she asked him back after taking a swallow. Loki gave her the slightest of amused smiles.

"Ah, both, I suppose."

She stood once more, snatching the shotgun off the table, and he immediately tensed. She knelt down on the floor, stowing it back under the couch from where she had gotten, and he relaxed. For a moment, he had thought himself discovered. "It's a long and aggravating story," she sighed as she did.

Loki spread his hands. "It appears I am not going anywhere any time soon. Tell me."

She stood back up, putting her hands on her hips as she looked down at him. It was an understatement to say he didn't like how she looked down at him at that moment, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked him.

"Not by any means," he said, racing to think of as many vague answers as he could give her.

"Well, neither am I," she said, and he inwardly sighed in relief. It seemed she had only been asking as a way to start her story.

She turned around, cleaning up the low table as she spoke. It seemed she needed to keep busy as she told this story, exuding nervous and angry energy.

"I come from a land of ice and snow, and way too many rock farms. Vermont. But my mother's side of the family is from here. My mom was pretty smart though, and got out of this rathole as quick as she could and ran north. But about five years ago, my parents got in a really bad car accident, and they didn't make it. So, that left me and my grandmother out of everyone."

She looked back at him, giving him a kind of half-shrug. "Apparently my family just kind of sucks at having kids, y'know?"

Loki only continued to give her an expression of attention; he wasn't exactly sure how to respond to all this just yet. It seemed she wasn't really looking for one either as she kept talking. The anger seemed to rise in her though, and his interest was piqued a bit more. Someone with a bit of rage in them always got him interested.

"Then some ass decided to find oil a few miles to the west of our land out here, and now everyone's going nuts trying to find it all. On top of that, this land has been in some crazy limbo thanks to good ol' grandma selling it, and then getting it back before she died. The Watersons, who basically make up half the population of this ridiculous sinkhole, still think they own the place! But they don't!_ I_ do!"

Oedipa had started banging things around now, picking up her bottle of Dr. Pepper, taking a swig, and then slamming it back down on the table. Loki put a hand up to his face to hide the wicked grin that was fighting its way onto his lips. This was fun to watch! She was getting so agitated just from telling him all this!

She pointed out the window. "Every other day and night they come out here, trying to stir stuff up! I'm out here, day after day, just trying to work, when these damn hick idiots come out of the woodwork, stinking to high heaven with their stupid trucks and cheap beer! They think they can just bully me out of this house just because I'm a girl! What the hell is that, really?"

She panted in her chair, her eyes wide with the anger as she gripped the bottle so hard it seemed it might burst in her fist. Loki had successfully fended off the grin on his face, and was now looking at her seriously. So, a young lady fighting for her family's land from foolish neighbors. That didn't sound too out of the ordinary. Her being busy with defending her inheritance might explain why she didn't recognize him though. Oedipa seemed to relax the slightest, giving him a nervous and sheepish look.

"Sorry, I, uh, can get pretty passionate about it," she said.

"Oh, no, I understand completely. Someone trying to rob you of what is rightfully yours is no light matter," he said, giving her a winning smile tainted with the same anger she had exhibited before. He knew all about that...

This seemed to please her, and he knew he was safe now. They had something in common now; an experience they both shared. Loki was cackling on the inside, he loved it when situations worked for him. They both understood what it was like to be fighting for something they knew belonged to them, and so she may have begun to trust him more. Mortals were so predictable like that; give them a reflection of themselves, and they were as complacent as so many drones. It might not matter that she didn't know where he had come from, nor how he had wound up in that swamp now.

Oedipa stood up, picking up his empty glass and her now empty soda bottle.

"Well, that's my story," she said. She looked back into a room that seemed like a dining area. She looked back at him, turning host once again. "You hungry?"

He gave her another smile. "Famished."

And he was, honestly.

She nodded approvingly, and moved off to make food, or so he guessed. He heard pots and pans being moved about, and his guess was proven correct.

Lying back into the pillows, he grinned triumphantly at the ceiling. Yes, this was going to work out nicely. Once he was back on his feet, he would start to try and find a way to get his powers back. There had to be someone on this pathetic rock who knew something about curses, or at least restoring gods. He absently studied his fingernails, his stomach lightly grumbling. For now, he could wait, and be waited upon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Whoo, done! I wanted to get this update done faster, but my birthday and other things happened first. Plus, I had to find the time to proof-read. This one may end a little awkwardly, but it was getting really long so I had to cut it off at some point.

Happy Reading!

- Ryu

**Chapter Three**

**T**he feeling of eyes watching him was what woke him, the house dark and full of shadows. He could here crickets chirping in the woods surrounding the place, and the spanish moss shuffling in the wind. Night had come softly, and after being fed a meal of something called 'meatloaf,' which lived up to its name but tasted fairly good, and potato slices that seemed to have been cooked in a cheese and cream sauce, Loki had fallen asleep actually quite content. He had hoped for a dreamless sleep, undisturbed, but now he could sense something staring at him. He peered into the black, feeling his lips starting to curl into an aggressive sneer.

Then, movement. He suddenly sat up, immediately on the defensive, and ready to strike despite his aching limbs. "Who's there?" he hissed.

Something large and black moved forward, claws clicking on the hardwood floor. Loki looked down at a massive, black dog, though it looked more like a wolf to him. It sat down, staring at him with chocolate brown eyes. He stared back, lying back down as he realized he was in no danger. If the dog had wanted to hurt him, it probably wouldn't have waited like it had. In all honesty, it reminded him of Fenris, though he knew this dog could never be as large, with its dusty black fur and bright eyes. He actually rather liked dogs, although he preferred wolves.

"Well, hello," he said softly.

The dog's ears perked and its brown eyes sparked. It seemed more interested in him now that he was talking to it. He actually smiled, and put his hand out.

"Come,"

The dog's tail started to thump the floor happily, and its mouth fell open into a happy pant. It stood and clicked over, sniffing his hand curiously. He was just about to run a hand over its sleek head, when the dog suddenly straightened, head whipping towards the door. The friendly nature had disappeared into the silent watch that had woken him earlier. The mouth opened into a low growl, and Loki quickly removed his hand. With a shadowy flash, the dog had slipped through the screen door.

The demi-god sat up, looking out into the yard with blinking fireflies to see the black shape crossing the grass. He could see another, a distant shine giving it away as most likely a mortal with some kind of light. Vicious, angry barking broke the quiet of the night, and Loki felt a smile on his face as he saw the figure quickly retreat. The dog followed after a few feet, making sure to keep barking. After a moment, he saw the shadow lope off into other parts of the forest.

Loki sighed, falling back into the pillow he had been resting on for almost the entire time he had been in Oedipa's house. He had been in too much pain earlier to try and walk around, and so hadn't left the couch since awakening. Now, he was completely awake as he stared at the ceiling, shadows drifting back and forth like dark clouds. His eyes wandered over to the numerous bookshelves. Well, he did need to learn about this place to try and keep people off of his trail while he was stuck like this.

He experimentally sat up, and swung his legs over the side. He gritted his teeth, biting back a snarl of pain as he knew if he made too much noise, his current host would most likely wake up to check on him. With a held breath, he made himself stand up, and with a soft gasp, almost fell right back onto the sofa. It felt as if his legs had been filled with hot needles, his knees and feet screaming. He could feel every inch of his flesh, lit on fire by the healing bruises and sores. Quickly, he shuffled over to one of the built-in bookcases, and then collapsed onto the floor, panting. Well, at least he wasn't completely enfeebled, but, gods, that had hurt!

He looked at what was in front of him. It seemed there was no real order, as he picked through the books. It was a mish-mash of novels and informational books, but luckily there were a few that proved to be of use to him. Something called an 'encyclopedia' and a road map of the United States. The first one he studied was the map. He flipped through it, first finding New York, and then fumbled around until he found Louisiana. Romeville was listed, but he couldn't find it; was the place as small as Oedipa had claimed? It seemed the 'state' had quite the topography though, ranging from the wetlands he had so conveniently appeared in, to lakes and forests and fields. He found out that he was quite a ways from New York, which he was grateful for. If he had wound up close to there, he suspected someone would have either recognized him, or some kind of SHIELD device would have found him. He actually couldn't have gotten lost in a more perfect place, nor had been found by someone more unsuspecting.

He then started to flip through the encyclopedia, and began to learn. He read every page, going from a-g, as the book was one of several on the shelf. He absorbed it all as quickly as he could, knowing that anything could be useful in his search for revenge against Odin and ways to escape the curse he had laid on him. He read the history of the Midgardian world, and nearly put the book down in disgust. These mortals fought like animals over every little thing, destroying whole countries and peoples without a second thought. They conquered and killed everything in sight. What did his brother see in these ridiculous creatures? Their taste for violence may prove useful to him, but he had yet to see any truly redeeming qualities. The only thing that seemed good about them was how easily they seemed to die.

A few individuals impressed him, but he reasoned that that was why they were in the book to begin with. The artists intrigued him, and he wished there was more light so he could better see their works on the page. Somewhere in the house he heard a bell chime, and he looked up. His body was beginning to ache even more from sitting on the floor, and he looked back at the sofa. He managed to crawl back over to it, and lie down, stewing over the information in his head.

He was safe from SHIELD and the Avengers, for now at least, so long as he stayed in this place and kept his ears and eyes open. Well, doing that would be no problem. But finding a way out from Odin's curse hadn't presented itself in the book... He was going to have to do more digging somewhere else. But where... He rolled over, hearing the dog making its way back to the house and the crickets continuing their songs.

* * *

**T**he next morning dawned bright and humid, though Loki was beginning to suspect that the general stickiness of Louisiana air never really left. It only abated when there was a breeze, which explained why Oedipa never seemed to close any door, and why all the windows were constantly open. Everything was screened against the barrage of mosquitoes that were always present as well. The dog was what had woken him up again, a bark jerking him awake. He turned over to have the beast happily panting into his face. With a groan, he pushed it away, but this only seemed to make the dog start to lick his hand.

"Get away from me," he grumbled, not entirely awake yet.

"Cliffjumper! Leave Loki alone, I'm the one with the food!"

The dog whipped around from the current bath it had been determined to give his arm, and went towards the sound of Oedipa's voice. He heard something being poured into a bowl, and then the owner of the voice stepped out from the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepy head! You want breakfast, or should I give you lunch instead? It's almost noon!"

All of her banter went over his head as he sat up, scrubbing his forehead with a palm. What he really wanted was a bath, and not by that monster dog. Oedipa noticed his lethargy, and took a moment to let him get his bearings.

"Sorry if Cliffjumper kept you up. He patrols the land at night." she said. Loki looked up at her, bags slightly gray under his green eyes.

"Cliffjumper?" he echoed back dubiously. What kind of name was that for a dog?

Oedipa laughed at his tone, and he scowled at her. He really didn't like it when she laughed at him.

"My dad named him that after the old Transformers cartoon," she explained, brushing his expression off. She folded her arms. "So, lunch? Yea or nay?"

"Yea," he said, almost cracking a smile at the old way of speaking.

She walked away and into the kitchen. Loki was about to lie back down when there was a rapping on the screen door. He sat back up, trying to see who was coming in. A young man with olive colored skin was poking his head in, his shaggy black hair looking a lot like the dog's.

"'Allo-'allo? Anybody home?" he called. He then sharply looked at Loki, realizing someone was on the couch he didn't expect. His face broke into a giant grin when he saw him, and he wondered if he should duck under the couch.

"'Ey! De Bogman's awake!" he practically crowed, and Oedipa came in just in time to stop Loki from giving this stranger a good tongue-lashing. He was a god, not a bogman of any kind!

"He doesn't like that!" she said as she walked across the length of the living room as Loki glared at the young man. She ushered the man in while he glared daggers at him from the sofa.

She turned to him, and gestured to the person who had come in, his sour expression never changing. How dare this man call him that, he'd teach him a lesson or two in respect! And give him a hair-cut!

"Loki, this is Boris. He's the guy I took you to when I found you," she said as the newly named Boris' expression changed to one of mild shock.

Loki's expression hardened into one of both dominance and quick thinking, his eyes warning Boris not to betray the information he could already tell he had. This man knew who he was, or at least had an inkling of what his name entailed. He was already thinking of ways to escape, how to disable said Boris without activating the curse that cramped his limbs and stabbed his muscles into pieces. He knew lots of ways to hurt people without actually doing anything, but in this house it might be difficult. Instead of raising the alarm though, Boris seemed as careful in responding as if he had been the one found out instead.

"Ez dat so?" he only responded, his bright eyes never leaving him. The two men seemed to be engaged in a staring contest that only they knew about. Oedipa was wonderfully oblivious to the tension in the room as she walked out.

"Well, doc, I'll leave you to it. Give me a shout when you're done, and I'll feed you both."

There was a pause as the two men continued to stare at each other, Loki digging his mental heels in and not giving one inch. If this man meant to give him away, he'd give him hell before ousting him. Boris smiled at him, all friendliness all over again, and walked over to him. He bristled, drawing his body taught as if to spring on him. Boris only knelt near the sofa, exhibiting a sweet bedside manner to him.

"So, Low-key," he said, purposefully drawing out the vowels that made Loki want to reach out and throttle him. "I'm glad ta see ya' awake; ya had quite de bump on ya head when 'Ed brought ya to meh. I d'ought for sho' ya'd be dead with de week. Budge up dere, I need ta see ya head."

Loki stiffened even more then he already had, his blood raging in indignation and resentment at this mortal treating him like this. However, in order to maybe placate him, and convince him not to give him away, he moved the slightest. Boris' large hands began to gently explore an area where he had felt a large bump, pressing and moving his hair to get a better look.

"Alright, does dat hurt?"

"No."

"Here?"

"...Sore."

"What 'bout here?"

Loki suddenly hissed as he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head flare, and he drew away as quickly as a spurned snake. Boris lifted up his hands to show he wasn't touching him as Loki tried to keep his temper in check. It would only end in the both of them in pain if he attempted to break his hands. Instead he glared at him as if his green eyes could stab his chest to bits, and the doctor only seemed to keep the calm air of before. He then moved back a bit, seeming as if to look at his legs now.

"I need ta look at da sores on ya legs," he said carefully, his eyes not leaving his face. "Is dat okay?"

He wanted nothing more then tell him to jump off a cliff, and to never even think about touching him ever again instead, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that he needed some form of medical attention, and though he also knew that the worst healing apprentice in Asgard would be leagues better then this mortal buffoon, beggars couldn't be choosers. Narrowing his eyes, Loki gave a toss of his head, trying to keep his pride down.

"You may proceed," he said.

If Boris noted the superior tone in his voice, he didn't acknowledge it. He rolled up the black pants he was still in, revealing the aggravated and shining marks of the dozens of leeches he had been covered in. Loki stared up at the ceiling, keeping down a low growl of anger in his throat, as the doctor gently ran his fingers over the broken skin.

About a minute into it, Boris spoke.

"Y'know, my muddah, she sometimes has very strange dreams," he began as he went over his feet. "A few days ago, she wake up from a terrible nightmah. She screamin', 'Loki! Loki! Loki Laefyson...'"

Loki had gone rigid, and finally met Boris' gaze. The man was staring straight at him, his hands still on his right foot. The silence hung in the living room, broken by only the sigh of the faint breeze.

"Dat wouldn't happen ta be you, would it?" he said, his eyes boring into his face.

His heart was roaring in his ears as the whole world felt as if it was slowly caving in. He could do one of two things; run or investigate. If this man proved to be a threat, he would have to run, but in order to do that, he needed to continue to prod. If he investigated, he gave risk to giving himself away, but a seer... That could be part of the answer to his predicament. He could use someone who had foreseen his arrival here.

"I am, " he said, and Boris removed his hands. Loki almost smiled at the curious reverence that seemed to have taken a hold of him. Now this was the proper respect due to him. It was about time!

"Who are you?" he asked cautiously.

Loki finally allowed himself to smile, his lips twisting in a coaxing and dangerous smile. "Not who; what."

Boris' eyes widened. "Are you a spirit?"

He cocked his head. "In a way,"

Oh, this was fun! He had missed playing the visiting god. Mortals were always so awed and eager to please whenever you revealed yourself. It was the fauning and praise that he had missed, and if he played this game longer, he might have two mortals who were willing to do both. But, first, he had to make sure he wouldn't suffer much longer from his current injuries.

"In this realm, however, I am not immune to your mortal pains," he said. He gestured to his legs. "Please, continue your work, doctor."

Boris blinked once more, and then seemed to scramble to get back to what he had been doing. His touch seemed much gentler now, as if touching a priceless artifact, and the demi-god relaxed into his pillow. This was much better.

After seeing to all his wounds and aches, Boris seemed ready to depart. Loki discouraged him from asking more questions about who and what he was exactly. He wrote down his address on a piece of paper, and invited him to visit soon. He thought he would, intending to see this woman who had dreamt him coming here, and told him so. At the end of the visit, Boris started to take different bottles out of a bag he had brought with him.

"Alright, I'ma leave you wit' some pills," he said, turning back to the authorative doctor he was. He handed him a green one, and then a white one. "Anty-biotics, to fight whatever dose leeches mighta had and what was in de swamp watah. It can be hard on ya' stomach so take dem wit' food. Dis is ibuprofen, ta help with de muscle aches and ya' bump. If ya' get a fevah, ya' tell 'Ed to call me right away."

At that moment, Oedipa had decided to cautiously come back into the room, first poking her head in, and then once seeing that Loki still had all his clothes on, walked in. She noticed the bottles in his hands, and assumed that they were finished. She looked at Boris, curious.

"You're not staying for lunch?" she asked him. Boris shook his head.

"Nah, I've got to get back to de hospital for mah shift," he said. He gave her a charming smile though, leaning on the door frame. Loki rolled his eyes, and looked over at the wall. "Maybe tamorrow, yeah?"

Whatever flirtation was going on seemed to go right over Oedipa's head as she nodded brightly. "Sure! I need to get groceries in town anyway," she said. Boris' smile cracked the slightest.

"Well, ah, alright. Goodbye den! Take care, Low-key!" he half laughed as he walked out the door.

Loki groaned on the sofa, and Oedipa let out a few chuckles. "Oh, jeez, that's terrible," she said, grinning at her unhappy guest. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she swallowed another fit of giggles at his expense.

It seemed that Mr. Loki wasn't all that much in a good mood, though she wondered if he ever was in a good mood. He seemed the grumpy type, but then again, if she had been stuck all over with leeches and was suffering from the aftermath, she probably wouldn't be too cheerful either. What she really wanted to do was get why he was in the wetlands to begin with out of him, but he would probably volunteer the information at some point. Just so long as he didn't turn out to be some crazy axe murderer in disguise or something...

She broke off her watch of the front yard, and turned to him. He seemed to be studying the bottles, reading the instructions.

"So, do you want lunch? I made sandwiches and stuff," she said.

Loki nodded his head, still trying to figure out the symbols on the caps of the bottles. It said to press down and turn... "Yes, food would be appreciated..." he said absently.

If he wanted to recover quickly, he thought that he should probably begin taking this mortal medicine as soon as possible. He highly doubted it would be as effective as Asgardian medicine, but it was better then nothing. He heard Oedipa leave, the clinking of plates and glasses far off in the house. He put the bottles down, a smile starting to break on his face.

He knew an answer to his problems would have presented itself eventually, but so quickly? The Norns must be really looking out for him this time if they had thrown the solution to him so easily. Hopefully this seer would be of good use, and have some knowledge of the spirits in this realm. If he was able to manipulate everything according to how he needed it, and he would, he would be free of Odin's curse and laying him low within weeks. Since he was in Midgard, he might as well wreak a bit of havoc here before he went on his way as well...

His thoughts were interrupted by the flash of Oedipa's arm putting down a plate and a glass of water. He gingerly sat up so he could eat. Revenge would have to wait a bit though as he healed, and after he had eaten as well.


End file.
